


Germination Period

by skidmo



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skidmo/pseuds/skidmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sex pollen takes a while to kick in, but it gets there in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Germination Period

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lorne_porn smutmas challenge on LJ. Prompt was ‘germination period’…oh, and accent porn, which I kind of, but not really, got in there too.

It starts as a tingling in the back of his head, and suddenly Cadman bending over to examine a piece of rubble in the Ancient temple they’re exploring is all kinds of inappropriate. Part of him wants to grab her right there and push her down onto the soft earth and show her why the fraternization rules are a load of bullshit, but the still in control part of him turns away from the temptation to find Parrish standing behind him with a slightly dazed look in his eyes.

“Hello, Major,” he says with that intensely articulate enunciation, and his eyes are bluer than anything Lorne’s ever seen, and he thinks it would take him days of mixing to find that exact shade of blue, but it would be so worth it. “I’ve found this flower,” he adds, pushing the violently orange blossom into Lorne’s face.

Lorne swallows and starts to step backwards before remembering that Cadman is behind him, so he steps to the left instead, but Parrish turns with him, and he’s somehow managed to back himself into a corner. “Wh-what is it?” He tries to ignore the way his voice breaks, but he can’t stop himself fixing his eyes on Parrish’s hand around the stem of the flower, long, delicate fingers with mud caked under the nails and so huge that Lorne’s mind immediately begins to imagine them around other things, but Parrish is a civilian, and he’s Lorne’s responsibility, and that means this is even more inappropriate than what he was thinking of with Cadman.

“I’m not sure.” Parrish is talking again, and Lorne’s eyes move from his hands to his lips, wondering how he can form his words to make them so precise and still make his lips look so enticing. “But it induces the most curious sensation. Mild euphoria. Perhaps hallucinogenic. I really ought to take a sample back to the lab for Katie to look at, and, Major, you have a bug in your hair.”

Parrish reaches out to pull the insect from Lorne’s hair, and Lorne, acting on instinct, brings his hand up to wrap his fingers around Parrish’s wrist. “Major?” He’s looking at Lorne like a particularly interesting cutting, and Lorne is about to turn his head to kiss Parrish’s palm when his radio crackles in his ear.

 _Sir, we’ve got visual confirmation of Wraith in the area. Suggest retreating back to Atlantis until the area is clear._

Lorne taps his radio, dropping his fingers from Parrish, who steps backwards, blushing slightly. “Copy that. We’ll be at the gate in five. Lorne out.”

As they rush to pack up their equipment and evacuate the area, Lorne sees the flower Parrish had been showing him on the ground, he picks it up and hands it to the botanist. “Don’t forget your flower, Doc.”

Parrish’s grin is blinding, and it takes Cadman’s insistent “Sir!” to draw his attention away from it.

And then it’s the rush to the gate and making sure Parrish doesn’t get left behind and dialing Atlantis and the familiar kawoosh and stepping through here and out again several thousand lightyears away.

***

Lorne gets through the physical and the briefing without too much trouble, though he finds himself hyper-aware of things he’s seen every day for the past two years. Like Cadman’s hair as she flips her ponytail over her shoulder, or Weir’s lips pursing when she hears about the Wraith attack or Ramirez’s dark eyes meeting his own as he confirms Lorne’s report or Parrish’s…. Well, everything really. Parrish’s fingers drumming on the table, and Lorne can’t help wondering if he’s ever been able to get all the dirt from under his nails. Parrish’s brow furrowing at the thought of the Wraith, and Lorne is sure he never noticed how cute Parrish was when he was worried before. Parrish’s eyes sparkling as he tells Weir about the plant he discovered, and Lorne knows he’s never found botany this interesting.

He makes it out of the briefing and heads back to his quarters, intending to take matters into his own hands. It’s been too long since he’s gotten laid. That has to be it.

But he takes a wrong turn somewhere and ends up at Parrish’s door. He doesn’t even think about it before he’s activated the chime, but he’s too impatient to wait for Parrish, so he just opens the door and walks on in.

“Major?” Parrish is standing in the bathroom door, towel wrapped around his waist, and somehow that makes the long line of his lean body even longer, and Lorne can’t help hoping he’s the cause of the tent he can see forming.

“I was just going to take a shower and then head for bed, Major. Did you need something?”

Lorne shakes his head. “No. I don’t _need_ anything. I want…” He’s not sure what he was going to say. _I want you_ maybe. He tries to clear his head and excuse himself, knows this isn’t right, will change everything between them. “Can I join you?”

For a moment, Lorne thinks Parrish will protest, blush and stammer and throw Lorne out and then complain to Weir and Lorne will be sent to Heightmeyer and then through the gate back to Earth, and then Parrish nods and shrugs. “Of course.” He turns to go back into the bathroom, letting the towel fall as he does, and Lorne can’t get out of his uniform fast enough; the laces knot on his boots and the buttons of his BDUs catch and his shirt gets tangled around his head and he trips over his shorts when he tries to step out of them, but then he’s there. Naked and hard and wanting, and Parrish is there too. Naked and hard and wet, and it’s so easy to press him against the cool tiles of the shower and pin him to the wall and lean up to taste those lips, to see if they are as articulate here as they are in the field.

And they are. And Parrish is willing and needy and it’s not long before Lorne finds their positions reversed, and Parrish is dropping to his knees, and all Lorne can think is _tight, wet, hot_ as Parrish’s tongue slides over Lorne’s cock and his lips close around the head and he sucks and licks, and Lorne is completely incoherent, mumbling words he can’t understand, just yes and please and don’t stop and David David David.

And then he looks down and sees David’s mouth on Lorne’s cock and David’s hand on his own cock, and Lorne’s fingers twist in David’s hair, and he groans and shakes, and he’s coming, and David is swallowing and shaking and coming, and Lorne slides the floor, and they kiss and cling to each other as the water from the shower falls down, washing them clean.

It’s several minutes before they stand and turn off the water and dry each other off and trip over Lorne’s hastily shed clothes on their way to the bed. And then David curls around Lorne and buries his face in Lorne’s neck and mumbles sleepily, “The germination period is apparently longer than I’d anticipated,” and Lorne is too tired and too relaxed and too warm to realize that he’s been set up.

And he wouldn’t really mind anyway.

 _fin_


End file.
